


blood running in my veins

by sweetstacks



Series: ultralife with me [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M, M/M, Modern Setting, This is disgustingly self-indulgent, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 09:52:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18206900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetstacks/pseuds/sweetstacks
Summary: In which Shiro fights crime and meets a cute barista.





	blood running in my veins

**Author's Note:**

> title/series title is from "ultralife" by oh wonder. yui, the barista matt talks up and flirts with, belongs to my best friend. surprise!!
> 
> this idea wouldn't get out of my head, so here we are. pls enjoy!!

He should be studying. 

He should, but Takashi Shirogane sometimes doesn’t make the best of decisions. His final is in physics, anyway; he could take the exam in his sleep. Which he may very well do tomorrow—it’s late, after all, and he isn’t even done with what he’s got his sights set on. In his defense, there are few people who could do what he’s doing. Few people who could take on the persona of the superhero Black, and spend the nights jumping from rooftop to rooftop in pursuit of a criminal.

Which is, actually, what he’s doing now. Shiro’s lucky he has near-endless stamina, superhuman strength and agility, and a penchant for risk-taking. It’s what’s garnered him admiration from the people he’s helped, and disdain from those who have been caught because of Shiro’s tenacity and desire to do good. 

They’ve also gotten a fistful of metal to the face. No wonder there are sore feelings there—and sore faces.

Pidge’s voice reaches him through the communicator in his ear. “Take a right here.”

“Got it.” 

He’s glad for Pidge; he wouldn’t be half as successful without her. He might be smart, but Pidge is leagues above him. Honestly, he wouldn’t trade her for anything or anyone. She’s known since he first discovered his powers… though Shiro has a sneaking suspicion that she knew even before that.

(“Amazing. I had no idea,” she’d said flatly, dryly. Shiro had chalked it up to Pidge being Pidge. But the more he thinks about it, the more he’s convinced she’s known for a hell of a long time. Matt, too. Genius siblings. Shiro thanks them every day.)

Shiro takes a right, and launches himself over the rooftops. His black outfit helps camouflage him; he isn’t in it for recognition. And surely people would make note of him, if they saw him. It’s attention he doesn’t particularly need or want. Shiro… all he wants to do is help people. Pidge teases him about it, sometimes—“Maybe you’d find a boyfriend if you let people know, Shiro”—but she’s told him before that she appreciates what he does. That’s practically praise, coming from Pidge.

His boots hit the rooftop, and to his surprise, there’s already someone there. Shiro cracks a grin; the blue, the rifle-like weapon—

“Beat you to it, big guy,” Sharpshooter says, and Shiro can hear that his grin matches Shiro’s own. “Throk’s about to feel the wrath of Sharpshooter.”

“Let me guess,” Shiro says, kneeling next to him. “Stun bullets.”

“Yup,” he replies, popping the p. “Watch and learn. I don’t need huge muscles to take down this loser.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Shiro replies, grinning as the other takes aim and fires. It’s a measure of his skill and observation that he knows just where Throk’s about to be, and the precision of his shot impresses Shiro every time. It hits Throk dead-center in the back. The man must let out a yell, but they’re too far away to hear it. “Great shot,” he says, as Throk hits the ground hard. 

“Aw, man, that’s gonna bruise when he wakes up in police custody.” Sharpshooter snickers, then taps the communicator. “Dial 911.” He waits, and a moment later, voice dripping with confidence and sheer smugness, “Yeah, I’ve got a lowlife waiting for you guys at the corner of Elm and Fifth. Yep. Out like a light. He’ll be like that for… let’s say… about two hours?” He falls quiet as he listens. “Yup. Don’t worry, it’s the guy you’ve all been trying to snag this whole time. Yep. No, thank you,” he says, before he hangs up.

“Showoff,” Shiro says, and he earns a laugh like windchimes in return.

“Score’s tied, big guy,” he says, tapping his knuckles against Shiro’s arm. “Gonna have to step it up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shiro says, nudging his arm against Sharpshooter’s side. Sometimes, he considers just yanking the helmet off his head—but that’d be unfair. Cheating. And he wants to earn that right fair and square. His identity is something Shiro’s willing to work toward learning. “First one to ten, right?”

“Yep. And we’re both at six.” He smirks, and Shiro has never wanted to kiss someone so badly. “Think you have what it takes to beat me?”

“Oh, I know I have what it takes.”

“Ooh, big words.”

“Big words to match my big muscles.” God, it sounds so stupid, now that he’s actually said it, but Sharpshooter throws his head back and laughs, bright and clear, and Shiro wants to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life. 

“I like your big muscles. Would like them more if I could see them better.”

“Maybe you will one day.”

Pidge’s voice cuts across the train of Shiro’s thoughts, and he realizes with vaguely dawning horror that he’s forgotten to shut the mic off. “God, are you two flirting again?” He can hear how exasperated she is, and he supposes that’s fair. “You should just pull off your mask and cut the glamour and just kiss him already. Seriously.”

“Enough of that,” Shiro says, and he cuts Pidge off—not before he can hear the start of her protests, though. Sharpshooter looks at him quizzically, and Shiro clears his throat. “Sorry. Just— a friend. A small, very annoying friend.”

“Believe me, I know how that goes.” Sharpshooter rolls his shoulders, stretches his neck, and lets out a groan as a series of pops cuts through the air. “Oh, man, I’m gonna be stiff in the morning.” He stands, and his rifle shrinks down to its pen form. He pockets it, and looks up at Shiro as he stands, too. “Should probably get back home. I’m totally beat.”

“Yeah, me too. Running around rooftops all night really wears me out.”

Sharpshooter snorts. “Uh-huh. Like you don’t have, like, infinite stamina.”

Shiro laughs. “Hey, I’m just trying to make you feel better.”

He huffs. “Nice try, big guy.” But Shiro swears there’s a thread of affection running through those four little words. “Until the next time?” he asks, and he raises his arm.

Shiro bumps his wrist against Sharpshooter’s. “Until next time.”

\-----

“—was totally easy, I could’ve done that over breakfast. Right, Shiro?”

“Huh?” Shiro blinks, and he suddenly remembers that Matt’s been talking. “Oh. Yeah. Definitely.”

Matt narrows his eyes, and he taps his fingers on the table. “You didn’t hear a word I said. Man, I haven’t seen you this distracted in a long time.” As Matt says it, Shiro feels his cheeks warm over. He hadn’t realized he’d been that distracted. Matt crosses his arms and surveys Shiro closely. Maybe too closely. Shiro shifts uneasily in his seat. Matt’s always been able to read him way too well. 

Pidge, unfortunately, takes the opportunity to pipe up with a, “He’s thinking about his boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?!”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, Pidge, knock it off.” But he’s still blushing, and Matt is looking at him with the smuggest grin. “What? I don’t.”

“Ohhh, it’s that guy. The one you have a bet with.”

“No.” Shiro doesn’t even sound convincing to himself. “There’s no guy. There’s no boyfriend. Stop spreading lies about my love life, which is nonexistent because I’m a full-time student, research assistant—”

“—and you’ve got the hots for a guy you fight crime with,” Pidge supplies helpfully, and she doesn’t even bother looking up from her tablet. Unfortunately for her, it provides Shiro with the perfect opportunity to tug it out of her grip and dangle it just where she can’t reach. “Wh— Shiro, knock it off!”

“Are you gonna stop being a pain in the butt?”

“No,” Pidge says, “but if you don’t give it back, I won’t be able to finish the upgrade for your arm.”

That piques his interest, and Shiro hands back the tablet. “Upgrade?”

“It’s totally awesome,” Matt says enthusiastically. “She’s making a change to it, so that if you really need to, you can activate it and make it, like, superheated. You’d be able to cut through metal like a knife through hot butter.”

“Why would I need that?”

Pidge shrugs. “I’unno. But it’s cool.”

Shiro sighs. “… Alright, yeah, it’s cool.” He ruffles Pidge’s hair, and she grunts before batting his hand away. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“I know,” Pidge says, practically preening. “Now, go away so I can work in peace.”

“Alright, alright. Hey, I’m gonna take him to that place.” Pidge looks up, and Shiro can’t help but notice that she looks suspiciously enthusiastic. “You want anything?”

“Cake. Coffee. And don’t bring me ice-cold coffee like you did last time after chatting up that girl.”

“Hey, she was cute, can you blame me?” Matt sighs happily. “Oh, Yui… now if only I could get your number, I’d be able to die happy.”

Pidge kicks Matt under the table, and then Shiro for good measure. “Shoo.”

Matt flicks her in the forehead, making her yelp, and he gets up. “C’mon, Shiro, before we unleash the pocket-sized beast.”

Shiro laughs and follows Matt out. Honestly, it’s a short walk to the place—a tiny coffee shop, out of the way, but charming on the outside. Shiro’s a little surprised he hasn’t seen this place before, but then again, he usually orders his food and coffee through his delivery app. With his research and classes and lab work, he can’t really afford the time to go out and cafe crawl.

“Ta-daaaaa,” Matt says, opening the door with a flourish. It’s quiet; there are a few students here, some Shiro recognizes. There’s a girl at the counter, who grins and waves when she sees Matt, and next to her is another worker. Short brown hair, tall, but not lanky—he thinks he recognizes him, and when he turns around, he knows he has. “Shiro, welcome to Blue’s Hangout.”

“Wow. Cute name.” Shiro watches the guy at the counter. Lance McClain, star swimmer of their university’s team. He had no idea he worked as a barista at a tiny, tucked-away coffee shop. “So… What do you recommend?”

“Uh, anything?” Matt shrugs and goes to the counter, and Shiro knows he won’t be much help because Matt is flirting with the girl. Shiro wants to be annoyed, but he can’t. Matt’s his best friend, after all, and he’s been hoping he’d find someone to make him happy.

Shiro, meanwhile, busies himself with looking at the menu. Lance is cleaning the machines, and he walks over. “So, new face. Need help deciding?”

He notices that Lance has very clear, very pretty blue eyes, and he forces himself to not get distracted staring at them. “Definitely.”

“What do you like?”

“Chocolate. Vanilla. Anything sweet, honestly.” Shiro chuckles, running a hand through his short hair. “Uh, but I guess what I’m in the mood for is something unique.”

“Unique, huh?” Lance taps his chin, then nods. “I think I’ve got just the thing for you.”

Shiro watches Lance work. He has clever hands, and he moves with a purpose. Really, it’s like he hasn’t left the water. There’s a grace to the way he shifts, bustles around, and Shiro can’t help but admire it. Lance obviously knows what he’s doing, and before long, Lance presents him with a latte. It smells delicious, and he takes it. 

“That, my friend, is a s’mores latte. Espresso, steamed graham-cracker infused milk, dark chocolate, cinnamon, and a salted caramel marshmallow.”

“Wow.” Shiro brings it to his lips and takes a sip. It’s absolutely delicious; it warms him from the inside, and he gives Lance a grin. “You definitely know what you’re doing.”

Lance laughs. “I’d hope so! My mama would have my head if I didn’t know how to make the best cup of coffee around.” He leans on the counter, elbows propping himself up, and he squints as he looks at Shiro. “I haven’t seen you here, but I’ve seen you around campus. Takashi Shirogane, right?”

“That’s me,” Shiro says, after swallowing his next sip. “Research assistant, lab technician.”

“Gym frequenter,” Lance adds with a grin.

Shiro laughs. “Yeah, I try to spend as much time in the gym as I do in the lab.”

“Do you even sleep?”

“Sometimes.” Shiro winks at him, and Lance rolls his eyes. “So, the star swimmer works at a coffee shop. Wouldn’t have guessed.”

Lance shrugs. “I try to keep it on the down-low, you know? Besides, I like it here. It’s quiet, I can get some of my homework done, and I can just relax and chill out.”

Shiro nods, and he can’t help but feel a sort of pull toward Lance. “Well… maybe I’ve found my new hangout.”

Lance’s eyes practically sparkle. “Well, you’re always welcome here.” He pokes Shiro’s cup with a finger. “And I’ll make sure to come up with plenty of new lattes just for you.”

Shiro smiles, and he feels that warmth from minutes ago spread through him again. 

“I’m looking forward to it.”


End file.
